


Reaching

by reddish



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Drabble, First Date, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-24
Updated: 2015-02-24
Packaged: 2018-03-14 21:21:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 847
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3426017
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/reddish/pseuds/reddish
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hareth takes Dorian on a date, but Dorian's not exactly used to being wooed. Heartfelt discussions ensue. Blah blah.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Reaching

Dorian and Hareth stare up at the stars, shoulder to shoulder on their backs atop a blanket that covers the sands of the Hissing Wastes. Their campfire crackles comfortingly nearby, but casts just enough light that it doesn't compromise the spectacular view.

"This... was not what I pictured when you told me you had a surprise for me," Dorian begins. 

"Oh?"  Hareth glances over at him. "Why's that?"

"Well. It's just the two of us, on an expedition into dwarven ruins and tombs, doing ghost hunting and slaughtering Venatori who interfere with our research."

"Did I miss anything?" Hareth asks, a grin on his face. "I tried to get as much of your interests here at once."

Dorian stills beside him, the thick silence washing over both of them. A minute feels like an eternity before Dorian continues. "I... that's what makes no sense to me. This was -- oh, I am loathe to even say the word -- a date?"

Hareth rolls onto his side and supports himself with an elbow so that he can look over Dorian's face. "It was certainly an attempt at one. Did I fail?"

Dorian tries to smile, but it appears a grimace. "The night is not quite over," he says, pushing himself upright. "I am quite certain I will be able to fail us both in that amount of time."

"Dorian?" Hareth sits up and reaches for the mage's hand, capturing it before it can leave the blanket. "What's wrong?"

"You  _thought of me_." Dorian's chest heaves in a sigh. "You're thinking about me. Planning romantic getaways and adventures, with me in mind."

"I don't follow."

Dorian shifts to face Hareth, his hand still under the warrior's. "When I hear someone say they have a surprise for me, I assume it involves copious amounts of wine and a blissful evening I can only hazily remember the next morning. Preferably without ever even knowing the other's name. This... this is more of a surprise than I was prepared for."

Hareth furrows his brow and lifts his palm from Dorian. "I didn't intend... there's no pressure, Dorian. I just wanted to spend time with you, doing things you enjoy. I like being with you."

Dorian laughs, but it is bitter. "Yes, yes. But you see, I  _need_  pressure. I need to be rushed into things so that I may rush out of them just as quickly."

"I... don't want that to happen," Hareth says lamely. 

Dorian sighs. "I know. And damn you for it." 

"I'm sorry?"

"Oh for -- don't apologize!" 

"I am extremely confused!"

Laughing, Dorian shakes his head. "You're meant to be. That is my dastardly plan after all."

"Dammit, Dorian," Hareth growls. "Stop being coy for two seconds and talk to me."

The mage's laughter ceases, and he becomes still again. Something shifts in his demeanor as he glances upward toward the night sky. "Do you think I'm not trying?" 

"I think you're running. Staying just out of my reach."

"I'm well within your reach," Dorian muses. "Perhaps that is the problem."

" _What_  is the problem?"

Dorian's gaze meets Hareth's for the first time in what seems like hours. "I'm not used to being reached for."

Hareth stills this time, a weight on his chest. Slowly, he extends his hand to Dorian's bared shoulder, eyes still locked. When he touches him, they both suck in a sharp breath, but neither pulls away. Hareth slides the hand to Dorian's waist, adds a second on the other hip, and pulls him forward with slow pressure. 

Dorian glides with his effort, letting himself be slowly guided until their foreheads meet and press lightly. 

"Don't you want this?" Hareth asks quietly, his voice shaken.

Dorian's gentle fingers brush the tips of Hareth's ears as they glide through his salt-and-pepper, shaggy long hair. "I have always wanted this," Dorian whispers with weak breath. 

"Then let me give it to you," Hareth pleads. "Let me think of you. Let me reach for you. Let me  _hold you._ " As he accentuates the last word, he guides his strong arms around Dorian's middle -- not locking them in place, but begging for his permission to stay there.

"But I've never  _had_  it," Dorian argues, but the words fall flat on his own lips. He searches Hareth's eyes in quiet desperation. "Fuck, Hareth. I want this. I want  _you_. But... If I open this door, I may want it all. And I'll warn you -- I am not prone to taking disappointment well."

Hareth's mouth forms into a lopsided smile. "Shocking revelations upon revelations tonight."

The mage huffs in frustration, but Hareth continues. "Try trusting me. For a minute, if no more. And if you can handle a minute, then we'll go from there. Deal?"

"A minute?" Dorian scoffs. "And what on earth do you plan to accomplish with a minute of my trust?"

Hareth presses his lips tenderly to Dorian's cheek, just at the edge of his mouth. 

With a quiet sound of acknowledgment, Dorian leans into him. "Just a minute, then," he agrees with a hushed breath before meeting Hareth's kiss. 


End file.
